Time ... Thou Ceaseless Lackey To Eternity.

Then Happy I That Love And Am Beloved, Where I May Not Remove Nor Be Removed.

Kent. Where's The King? Gent. Contending With The Fretful Elements; Bids The Wind Blow The Earth Into The Sea, Or Swell The Curled Waters 'bove The Main, That Things Might Change Or Cease; Tears His White Hair, Which The Impetuous Blasts, With Eyeless Rage, Catch In Their Fury And Make Nothing Of; Strives In His Little World Of Man To Outscorn The To-and-fro-conflicting Wind And Rain. This Night, Wherein The Cub-drawn Bear Would Couch, The Lion And The Belly-pinched Wolf Keep Their Fur Dry, Unbonneted He Runs, And Bids What Will Take All.

Rumour Doth Double, Like The Voice And Echo, The Numbers Of The Feared.

Fight To The Last Gasp.

When That The Poor Have Cried, Caesar Hath Wept: Ambition Should Be Made Of Sterner Stuff: Yet Brutus Says He Was Ambitious; And Brutus Is An Honourable Man.